Subtext
by n7shoujo
Summary: Subtext; by definition: an underlying theme or meaning (of a piece of literature) - a message which is not directly stated but can be inferred. A commoner/royalty type of romance would be so adoringly sweet, but too bad only Jin thinks this way. Lien disagrees because things aren't that simple. They never are. Ling Yao x OC [ten chapters, ten stages of love].
1. First Sight

Yooo, so instead of working on my other stories, I watched FMA:B for the second time in a long time and here I am with a Ling Yao x OC story. This'll only be 10 chapters, according to a Lunaescence challenge exploring 'the ten stages of love' - challenger: Ninja-chan (my lunaescence account name being Kyuun). There may be a sequel but only if this is well-received.

I hope you readers enjoy!

* * *

_First Sight (9)_

**Life and death are opposite ends of one spectrum but both are found everywhere-**

To be born into a high-ranking clan was a blessing.

So, likewise, to be born into a low-ranking clan could be considered a curse.

But how could you tell the difference when you were young and have never before seen the other side with the greener grass?

Lien Li adored her mother.

There were things she noticed that always seemed a little bit off, like the long sleeves and the bruised wrists or the smiles and the tired eyes – but despite that, she loved her very much. Her father, she'd never really known except that he wasn't there in the morning and afternoon but there in the very late night.

And what could a kid do but love, after all? To love and want it back in return. She knew what but not why and it wasn't her place to know why. So when her mother pulled her aside to tell her in simple words, 'You'll be staying here for a while', she didn't question her mother's intentions. Curiousity was dangerous and parents knew all, so she'd always be safe as long as they were there.

Besides, 'Ling Yao'. The name rang a bell and it wasn't a bad sounding bell either.

It went rather quickly: there was the horse ride all the way to a large house connected to all these other little houses, the burning sweetness of her mother's hand grasping hers almost desperately for whatever reason it did seem desperate, and then she was led to a room.

Her mother hugged her, and smiled that small private smile and exited. Then there were voices and a short time for Lien's typical almond eyes to travel around the room and then-

The first thing she noticed about him was his eyes.

They were either closed or very thin or maybe both. Maybe the same almond shape as hers, that is, if he opened his eyes in the first place. She couldn't tell.

"Are you the prince?" she asked then, because he was dressed in garbs she hadn't seen before. Bright and intricate and caressing the floor in a saggy heap because of the boy's sitting form.

A stagnant silent passed and he was either ignoring her or asleep. The former didn't make sense but the idea of it hurt. The little girl pursed her lips, eyebrows furrowing very lightly. Using her left hand, she swiped a few strands of hair out of her eye and diverted her attention to the bamboo slides. The silhouettes of her mother and Ling's mother stood and wavered. Hushed voices illegible and muffled.

Lien's eyes flickered slowly back to the prince's after an eternity, unaware of whether she should be feeling uncomfortable because of his status or tired because the sun had long since went down and the birds were starting to murmur and begin their daily routine.

She shifted uncomfortably, fingering the hem of her plain cotton dress.

Could he even see her? He hadn't even acknowledged her presence and maybe she really should've felt more uncomfortable because he was a prince.

Or maybe her former ideas were right: he was sleeping.

She straightened and furrowed her brows at the boy. He was still. The possibility of him being asleep was very high and she wanted to check if her observation was true.

For a moment, she sat with her legs folded beneath her in a typical polite manner, a meter away from the boy.

And then she was in front of him, peering curiously at the slender lines that were his eyes.

That was when his lips stretched in an unexpected smile.

She pulled herself away with a jolt, falling backwards as a crimson blush rushed to her face – successfully overcoming her inquisitive expression, and when her mouth opened to spew an apology, the twelfth prince lifted an equally slender finger to his lips.

Her first order, whether or not either of them really knew it was.

She averted her eyes and allowed a tiny nod.

His smile widened as if he could read her thoughts but moments later when Lien glanced up for the second time, her lips parted because his eyes were open and trained on the bamboo doors in front of him. Only, his amused expression was swept away and his face seemed almost calculating.

The feeling that seized her reminded her of her mother and all the other adults. He didn't seem like he was her age, like her mother said. No, he seemed like one of the adults. Knowing.

Intimidating, almost.

Her eyes trailed over his face and she began to feel apprehensive. She didn't feel good and where was her mother? The atmosphere took a severe steer towards a direction she didn't like but she didn't understand why she didn't like it.

Abruptly, the smooth _shhhaa_ of bamboo against bamboo met her ears and in front of her appeared a tall lady with painted red lips parted in a kind smile.

"Lien," she murmured in a beautiful tone, "you're going to be staying with us now. Is that alright?"

Sluggishly, Lien nodded. _'Do whatever they tell you to do, alright Lien?'_

After all, what could a kid do?

And yet… as the prince's mother continued, her eyes couldn't move from the bamboo doors when a sudden realization occurred in her mind. She didn't know how long she stared but her mind had long since formed the question in her mind.

Ah.

Her mother wasn't coming back, was she?

.:.

_"__Are you sure you don't want to say goodbye to your daughter?"_

_"…__I'm sure."_

_"__But-"_

_"__This is for the best. Just… please, take care of Lien."_

_"…__you know I will. But in return, take care of yourself."_

_"…"_

_"…__you will, won't you?"_

_"__Please… tell Lien that I'm sorry."_

_"__Feng-"_

_"__I'll try."_

_"…__when the Li clan is safer, you'll come back."_

_"…__this is for the best."_

_"__Are you sure-"_

_"__I'm sure. This is my problem. I don't want to trouble you more than I already have."_

_"__You-"_

_"__I have to go. I have to get back by sunrise."_

_"…__right."_

_"__I- I can't thank you enough-"_

_Laughter. "You know you don't need to Feng… but be well. Take that as an order, not a friend's request."_

.:.

Feng Li's hands clutched at her stomach as the rented carriage rolled away from the main Yao estate, breathing shallow.

Coarse minutes passed before she settled the queasy feeling in her stomach – pregnancy wasn't fun and maybe it'd have been a good idea to let the official 'Mistress Yao' know, but that would've worried her more: how fortunate it was for Feng's best friend to be chosen as one of the wives of the Emperor… personal taste was the deciding factor and one of her distant sisters was chosen out of the Li clan to bear an heir - she may've been a daughter of the chief of the Li clan but she was one of many.

But as they said, blood of the covenant was thicker than the water of the womb.

"T-tell me about yourself," Feng began despite her raspy voice, eyes clear with the intention of getting distracted from the sickness laying deep in her gut.

The carriage driver spared her a glance through a small square cut from the wooden planks holding the carriage together, his shoulder-length hair wiping across his cheek as he turned his head back to the dawn-lit road. Her question was barely heard over heavy footsteps of his horse but he indulged the lady with a little smile that she couldn't see.

"Well, Lady Li… my name is Huo, of the Song clan."

"Lady is an exaggerated title for the state my clan is in right now," she sighed, closing her eyes. "Call me Feng."

She'd enjoy his company while it lasted, for her husband's would later condemn her for the rest of the years she had left to live or her unborn child's.

Nevertheless… Huo.

Her palm came to rest at her slightly swollen stomach.

...Huo was a nice name.

-**and so are beginning and endings, because an ending is just a promise for a new beginning.**


	2. Introduction

_Introduction (13, nearly 14)_

It was four years after she first saw Ling that she'd actually _met_ the guy.

The past four years were spent learning 'proper etiquette' and waking up at the ass-crack of dawn to practice what she'd learnt. Safe to say the least, it wasn't fun nor was it pretty as proper etiquette didn't only include how to 'act' around royalty - how to carry yourself around them and all that crap - but how to fight using Xingese martial arts. She had the bruises, muscles and scars to prove it.

Lien spent the last four years hating the twelfth prince she belonged to and yet her hatred spurred from the idea that there was nothing to hate – she was here because her mother left her here and of all things to do, she should've hated her mother instead. Was it his fault that she was left here four years ago in a place filled with strangers? She didn't know but it might as well be, because she'd never blame her mother.

It was easier to hate a name and a blurry face, than to hate a person whose warmth she'd felt before.

From eavesdropping on the servants (although admittedly, she kind of was one herself) she'd come to at least three theories on why she was here in the first place.

One: her mother sold her to the royal family for supplies, because she was ill and needed medical attention. A formidable theory, if not for the fact that she seemed to be treated more highly than the other servants – for what other reason would she be allowed to learn martial arts from an actual Xingese master?

Two: her mother had promised her to Ling Yao as one of the many Royal Concubines/or potentially, one of his wives. Another okay theory, seeing as it happened to many other girls. But neither the prince of herself were of age and last she heard, matches for the Emperor's sons and daughters didn't exactly live with their partner, at least, not on the familial clan grounds.

Three: Lien was related to Mistress Yao in some way and something had happened to result in Lien staying at the Yao Estate. An interesting theory and she couldn't decide whether or not to pursue the matter or leave it be: confronting the mistress was harder than it seemed because she wasn't at the estate most of the time. This was the only theory that did not include her belonging to the prince in some way and she liked it far better than the others.

But then again there was no point in believing rumours. There were too many stories to count and she wondered when the maids would ever stop running out of ideas.

If anything was clear at all, it was that she belonged to the Yao family, or more specifically, its prince (it was an unspoken truth of sorts, but she didn't know where it originated: people tended to flock to each other and believe what others believed, which is why she accepted it in the first place). Her last name was a fuzzy figure to her and she'd never given it much thought when she was younger, when she was still with her original family. She couldn't remember it. It would be another thing to mention that all the rumours spoke never of her father and only her mother.

But she'd grown up, that fact was definite. Curiousity was dangerous, yes, but it was necessary. Her parents weren't there to shield her from the world-

"Lieeeen!"

The wooden chopsticks clattered against one another in her hands, only just managing to stabilise as Lien blinked.

"…Jin?" she then acknowledged, shaking her head before returning to her morning meal.

"You did it again," Jin pointed out, mimicking the action Lien had made seconds before and causing her ponytail to sway with the movements of her head.

"Sorry," Lien sighed, raising a dumpling to her mouth.

"As I was saying, today's a day unlike any other! The sun is shining, the birds are singing and I get to clean the dining hall with _Feng_ today!"

"Mm." Lien guessed she shouldn't mention the sun always shined in this part of Xing but Feng was a nice boy so she approved of Jin's infatuation with him, despite Jin being a few years her elder.

"Have you seen his eyelashes Lien? So feminine and beautiful… and his hair is so wonderfully black…"

"Ah." Resisting the urge to roll her eyes, Lien refrained from telling her that a hair colour apart from black would be an odd sight to see in the halls of the Yao estate. They were all Xingese, after all.

"So, have you…"

Lien looked up inquisitively before she caught on to whatever Jin was beginning to imply. She chewed and swallowed.

"As always," Lien began, amused at Jin's quick change of disposition, "no I haven't."

"I see…" Jin murmured, leaning forward to rest her chin on her palms. "I just figured you found something out, with you being deep in thought and all…"

The younger female watched as a faraway look entered Jin's eyes.

"How did you end up here?" came Lien's abrupt question with the realisation that she didn't know anything about the past Jin had, despite meeting her two years ago (due to bumping into her while on cleaning duty). She pulled back with the same spontaneity and her hands lowered slightly as she quickly assured, "you don't have to answer if you don't want to, of course-"

Jin laughed, eyes crinkling and Lien's eyes flickered towards the tiny beauty spot beneath her right eye – "It's fine Lien, totally fine."

The shorter-haired of the two (Lien) relaxed and placed her chopsticks on top of her bowl as Jin smiled.

"I'm an orphan. A servant found me outside the estate and Mistress Yao decided to have mercy and take me in. I'm lucky, but my story is nothing special compared to any other servant's story, really."

Eyes soft, Lien picked at her dumplings.

People were galaxies and it'd do her good not to forget that.

"But you…" Jin commented, turning her head to the side to observe the bustling cooks and giving Lien a slight smirk, "something's definitely up with you."

**.:.**

The Yao estate was huge but compared to the higher clans' estates, it was average.

To Lien's small figure in the hallways, it loomed frighteningly. She'd probably never get used to it. The walk to the dojo was a long one – it may've loomed now but when she was younger, it haunted her. Seeing walls so large and yet so suffocating…

She sighed.

The black tank top she wore hung softly from her shoulders and she shifted her arms so that she could get a better grip on the books she was holding. First things first, she'd return the books to the study…

"Lien!"

Huh. That was a voice she didn't hear often; not in these parts of the estate.

"Lan Fan-?"

The clandestine soldier rushed by, pausing only very briefly to speak with a hasty tone.

"-have you seen the Young Master?"

Lien frowned, "…no, I can't say I have…"

Had he ever been in this part of the estate, where the servants and soldiers lived? To her knowledge, no, he had not. A clang of interest sprang into her mind, Jin's earlier words ringing in her mind.

_"…__today's a day unlike any other…"_

With a hurried nod of thanks, Lan Fan began running down the hall and Lien swivelled lightly on her feet to get a better look at where the bodyguard was going.

It seemed like today wouldn't be just another ordinary day.

Buuut she wasn't usually included in unordinary things, so, shrugging to herself, she turned around and proceeded towards the library.

Twice, she stepped and when she reached the third, she was falling before she could actually comprehend she was. With wide eyes, her grip on her books slackened before she squeezed her eyes shut (though what it did for her impending doom did nothing)-

-and opened them again to meet a pair of thin eyes that struck a chord of remembrance somewhere in her mind.

"Caught you!" the prince chimed, one arm securing around her waist and the other catching the books in a disturbingly neat pile.

"…that… was lucky," Lien muttered eventually, a rush of immense nervousness causing her to avoid looking at his face at their close proximity, "…thanks."

He said nothing as he helped her stand straight, lips permanently set into a cheery smile.

Resisting the urge to clear her throat, she ran her hands down her pants to soothe her suddenly sweaty palms instead. Great. This… this was the prince. His eyes were the thing that triggered the rest of his younger self's face to form in her mind's eye.

"You okay?" the tall teenager asked in a worried tone she didn't expect for him to have.

"Y-yeah," she hesitated, wondering if she should take her books or if he'd offer to give them back.

She didn't have the time to ask, because a faint voice in the distance called out – "Young Master!" and if she weren't mistaken, it was both Lan Fan's voice and Master Fu's.

_"__To be able to stand by the prince's side, you must be able to protect him."_

Alert, 'Young Master' stiffened and threw a quick glance at the source of the voices before his grin stretched and he nodded towards Lien in what she deemed as acknowledgement. So she was right – this was the guy she met all that time ago.

Then, he was sprinting away.

With blank eyes, she stared after the boy, watching as his yellow outfit flapped against the invisible force of air.

…he had her books.

She saw him pause in his step, look back with that same grin, and continue.

…he had her books!

She blinked once, opened her mouth and closed it.

Okay, he had her books. That meant she had to go after him.

"W-wait-!" she stopped mid-action to curse beneath her breath, legs straining with long strides that hopefully matched the boy's careless ones.

And then he laughed; a pretty melody.

By the time they'd reached the library (which honestly didn't take long from the pace they were going at) she was slightly breathless and Ling maintained his grin with laughter in his eyes.

"Did you want your books back, miss?" he asked innocently, almost playfully.

Something in his voice annoyed her.

Smoothly, she snatched the books from his welcome hand and her brown eyes flickered to his and away.

"…Lien," she emphasized, eyes narrowed.

If a servant were listening in on them, they'd probably sue her for insubordination at her impolite tone… but there wasn't.

Ling tilted his head.

"Ling Yao."

But as if she didn't know that. Not with those memorable, squinty eyes.

"Why are you running?"

He lifted a long finger to his pale lips and her mind flashed back to when she was nine.

"That's a secret."

Miffed, she shifted her body slightly towards the library doors.

They stood there in a silence she couldn't really determine was awkward or not and gave a coarse nod to the prince, to which he returned with a bigger grin.

Shaking her head to herself as she entered the study, she headed towards the allocated shelf her books needed to be placed in and began slipping the literature into the empty spaces. A few brief seconds passed when she tensed at the sudden warmth behind her and Lien slowly realised that the presence was following her the whole time.

She jumped as the prince's arm slid against hers to reach for the book she just put back into the shelf and held in the squeak that threatened to pour from the simple, sudden action.

"You're very unaware of your surroundings, aren't you?" he hummed amusedly, fingers tracing the spine of the book.

And there he went again, bringing that uneasy feeling back to Lien.

Without commenting on his observation, she replied with a voice of forced cheer, "You know that Lan Fan can sense where you are right? You won't be able to hide for long."

Unexpectedly, he gave a cheeky laugh and said, "You wouldn't sell me out, would you?"

From the corner of her eyes, she glanced at him; unsettled when she found that he was looking straight at her.

"…of course not."

And just like that, her anger was extinguished and she meekly resigned to playing the prince's game.

For Ling, he stood in a pleasant silence, and for Lien, she stood in a silence that was neither good nor bad.

"Ah," Ling suddenly exclaimed, eyebrows furrowing. "I gotta go."

She inclined her head, thoroughly confused but not bothered to ask. Maybe he had that sixth sense as well (though she wouldn't be that surprised, from the rumours that he too was a brilliant martial artist).

"See ya, Lien!" he shoved the book into the shelf and did some kind of twirl as he passed her and ran towards the door.

"Bye, Ling."

And then she caught herself, but the damage was done. He'd just escaped the library when she muttered, "I mean, Young Master."

Lo and behold, the twelfth prince of Xing.

…somehow she expected differently of him.

**.:.**

Later, when she was lying in her small chambers and when the birds outside no longer chirped, she found that she'd felt no feelings of hate towards him during the time she'd interacted with him. The interaction was sudden and thinking about it, there was no reason to have expecting anything at all from him – why was she so surprised he was worried when he was the one who bumped into her? He'd be rightfully worried, as it was his fault.

…she felt weird.

Like her previous views about the characters in her life were being challenged but she didn't quite know how to explain what she thought.

"So I heard you met the prince today…"

Jin.

"…is he attractive?" Jin waggled her eyebrows, a grin lighting her face.

Lien stayed silent.

If she had to say… maybe… he was? Pretty would be her designated adjective but-

"Wait, seriously?"

Had she said something out loud?

"Your silence tells me enough. Is he seriously attractive? I've never set my eyes on him but I've heard rumours-"

**.:.**

He'd always been curious about the girl who'd barged into his home in the middle of the night, only to be taken away by maids and the like, to be never seen again, except for some passing glimpses around the estate. To be a prince was to be busy, after all and today was the prime time to break into the servant's quarters without being hindered by his other 'princely duties'.

So when he saw her figure take small, gradual steps forward, hands burdened with books, he figured he'd help her out.

"…that… was lucky," she muttered, "…thanks."

If he hadn't have meant to bump into her so forcefully, maybe he would've agreed, with the way his reflexes kicked in to wrap his arm around her waist and pull him towards her protectively.

But he did mean to.

So really, he thought, smirking inwardly, luck had nothing to do with it.

He just wanted to make a memorable entrance.


	3. Interaction

**I'm not really sure how long I plan to go with this fic, I have a few chapters written out, like 3/4 more, but it's been a year and a bit since I wrote them and my writing style has changed considerably and... I guess we'll see huh? I'm sorry for the long wait!**

* * *

_Interaction (13, nearly 14)_

She could feel it – her impending doom. But then again she should've gotten used to it already: spars with Lan Fan were getting more and more common because she'd already learnt the basic techniques (use your opponent against themselves), stances (keep steady), movements (allow yourself to be flexible, don't be swayed)-

"Keep your arm strong," Lan Fan murmured, jumping back and raising her own arms as an example.

"Situation mastery and control is the essence, Lien," Fu called from the side, crossed arms hidden by his long sleeves.

Lien nodded, exhaling and digging her feet into the tatami mats as she waited for Lan Fan to make the first move.

Lan Fan looked at her expectantly and Lien might've imagined the amusement on the soldier's face as the less experienced teen held back a grimace at her realisation.

Oh.

**.:.**

Similar to a few weeks ago, the third or maybe fourth time she'd conversed with Ling, he'd called her out in the middle of the hallway, arms waving to catch her attention.

When he'd caught up to her, they'd settled into an even pace, with Lien holding a single book in her left palm.

"Young Master?" she acknowledged politely.

A small thought in the depths of her mind pondered if she should be afraid or not… but there were more frightening things. Like Master Fu.

"Eh? You're calling me that now?" he whined, crossing his arms.

"W-what do you mean, Young Master?" Lien's eyes darted from side to side, hoping that there was no one in hearing distance to actually report Lien with accusations of insubordination. The rumours of being 'sold' or 'promised' as the prince's _thing_ were scandalous enough. Jin's tendency to gossip suddenly appeared in her mind and she glanced nervously at Ling – had anything spread? And if so, what would Jin have twisted the retelling of Lien's story into? And most importantly, had the prince heard?

"Lien…!"

She ignored him, eyebrows furrowed as her steps led her to the library.

"Lien!"

"…Young Master, you should be quiet-"

"Lien!"

Sending him an annoyed look, she sighed, "Ling, alright?"

He grinned, "Yay!"

…he was way too careless, this prince.

"What do you want?" Lien asked finally, crossing her sleeved arms and shifting her body to face him.

"Black suits you better than white!" he exclaimed after a short silence, his tone proud, as if he'd just enclosed significant details to her.

The black-haired girl scowled – of all things, that was it? She made a move to say yellow didn't suit him but she couldn't, because it actually really did.

His eyes crinkled in that same smile he always wore and he tilted his head, waiting; as if to say yeah, he knew.

She didn't know why he cared if different colours suited her or not. She didn't know if she wanted to.

They stood in one of their many silences, Lien's mind racing uncomfortably as it dragged further on. Then, the Xingese girl pursed her lips. She could've sworn his smile widened. If he was seriously getting a rush out of this-

"…i-is," she hesitated to say, "is that it?"

She had books to read.

His smile dissipated, "Actually, no."

That was possibly the first time she'd seen him without his trademark smile.

She made a small noise of interest. His voice turned serious.

"Remember the first time we met?" he inquired, leaning his side onto the library door.

"How could I forget?" But honestly, she wasn't sure if he was talking about the first time they met or the _first first_ time they met.

Ling smirked, "Well, I was skipping a meeting with the clan elders."

With a raised brow, Lien murmured, "Is that alright? You're a prince, shouldn't you be…"

He waved his hand nonchalantly, "It was nothing I hadn't heard before. Basically, the emperor is sick."

Lien stared at him. He stared right back.

"…I see."

Ling chuckled lightly, "That's your reaction?"

Lien shifted uncomfortably. "He's… old. It's understandable."

"Hm."

"…why would you tell _me_ this?"

"Huh?"

"What would you do if word got out? There's a high risk of assassination attempts if word does get out because he hasn't chosen an heir yet, not to mention the chance of an uproar within Xing although it isn't that likely, but anyway… why tell a lowly servant such as myself? You'd be blamed and things would get really… bad."

Ling grinned.

"You're not a lowly servant! You're Lien!"

She settled her deadpan gaze on him, "That's not the point. Why tell me?"

He opened his eyes and they glimmered. Her breath caught in her throat.

"Because," he stated casually, "you're mine."

(He'd always wanted to try that line out and the chance was staring him in the face, so naturally, he took it.)

The line didn't affect her like he'd wanted it to. A shame.

"What… do you mean?" she asked in a slow, confused voice.

Something was wrong with this prince. That was for sure.

Ling stood straighter, taller.

"From here on out, you are now one of my retainers. You are to remain loyal to me and me only. You are to protect me, and serve me, blah blah blah… the twelfth prince of the Xing dynasty!" The silly smile on his face nearly made her shake her head at his informality. "Understood?"

"…well," Lien said after a beat of silence, feeling relieved and as if an invisible burden were lifted off her shoulders, "at least I'm not one of your…"

Ling tilted his head again, but this time with curiousity.

"Never mind."

The boy stared at her.

"…shouldn't you be surprised?"

Raising her books closer to her body, Lien locked eyes with him, "Should I be?"

They stared at each other.

"I-I mean… well… I don't know how I feel about this but I can't say it wasn't expected. Why else was I under a rigorous training schedule?"

"Ah," the prince hummed finally, "your reactions are always unexpected!"

He entered the library and motioned for her to follow. She did so soundlessly.

"But you're the one who says things that are easy to misinterpret. You should really take care of that habit."

"I do that on purpose," Ling replied.

From hearing his response, Lien shook her head exasperatedly, but she couldn't shake the feeling of having seen his eyes open. Among all the words she could've described them with, she settled on one: they were… mature. Or perhaps, wiser than he let on, and that fact itself was somewhat unsettlingly tricky.

But he was still a bit of an idiot.

After minutes or maybe even hours - she lost track - in a calm atmosphere, she soon raised her head from her book (honestly she hadn't read a thing, she was too busy thinking) and asked, "How's your mother?"

Ling glanced up from the book he was reading ("Western Alchemy 101"… why was he reading something like that?) and his face morphed into a surprised expression.

"My mother? You talk to her?"

"Y-yeah…" Ling's mother was probably the closest thing she had to a maternal figure, after all. Even if at times she found her hard to talk to due to status – though that didn't seem to be a problem between her and Ling, maybe because she didn't really view him as someone higher than her. He gave off the aura when he wanted to but he didn't seem to have the need whenever he was around her or any other of the servants.

"She's fine, I think. Why?"

Lien looked as if she wanted to say something, "No reason."

With his book still open, he settled his elbow onto his chair's arm and rested his chin on his palm.

"No reason?" he echoed.

Her eyes darkened slightly, and the reluctance underlying her voice was palpable. "Well-"

She stopped herself and wasn't sure if she should trouble the_ prince_ with her personal problems.

But then, she reasoned, if anyone could help wouldn't it be either the prince or the mistress?

Ling closed his book.

"Well… it's about my mother…"

He stayed silent and she thanked him wordlessly for giving her a chance to talk.

"Do you know anything about her…? Where she is? If she's… alive?" Any detail – Lien wanted to know it. And what of her father? What of her clan? But did she have a clan? What was its title – what was her last name?

"You're asking this now?" Ling inquired.

"I guess…" Lien frowned, "I was too scared to ask before… and I don't see the Mistress much, and well, since you visit this part of the estate more often, I thought that…"

She thought that she had more of a chance for knowledge.

"Have you talked to my mother about this?" Ling asked eventually, and at this point he took on a more dignified position in his seat; his legs which were crossed were now uncrossed and the book placed to the table at his side, forgotten. His attention was all on her.

"N-no…"

The prince smiled kindly, and rose from his seat. He returned his book to its rightful place and when he passed Lien, he put his hand tenderly on her head. Although she couldn't understand the meaning of the gesture, it was appreciated. His hand held an immense warmth she couldn't pinpoint as natural but nevertheless, it sent minute ripples of _something_ through her body. To put it very simply, it was very weird.

"You should."

His words somehow weighed deeply inside of her and she felt obliged to say, "…thank you."

Ling's eyes opened to trail over her but she didn't notice because she was too busy looking downwards. "No problem."

And when he left the library she turned to watch him through the open doors, eyes trained on the way his shoulders swayed lightly as he walked. His gallant stride seemed so effortless, maybe because of how long his legs were…?

She shook her head for the second time, dismissing the thoughts. But she couldn't help looking back a second time.

…**insubordination. **The word resonated in her mind.

Suddenly, she felt hot.

**.:.**

When she exited the library, the sun was no longer dominating the sky.

Her footsteps pattered across the hallway's tiles and broke the serene quiet. But the silence wavered even more as she neared a lit-up room.

"Thanks miss!"

"No problem. Would you tell me what you were doing out so late though?"

The two voices discussed in cheerful tones and Lien recognized one as Ling's mother.

…what was one of the royal wives of the emperor doing out so late? Then, Lien figured, maybe that's where Ling got his carelessness from.

She halted in her step. She wanted to talk to her before she went on a trip – she needed to. The voices slowly faded, and she glanced at the closed door.

"You can come in, Lien."

Lien gasped, shoulders going tense.

"M-mistress-!"

Mistress Yao laughed, lips curling into a sweet smile. "Come in."

"Thanks again miss!" A childish voice chirped, and from a medium-sized space, a kid flashed Lien a quirky grin, before sprinting away.

Lien didn't know when the mistress had moved to the side to welcome her in, but she figured the woman had been standing there for a short while before Lien realised it was a gesture. Whispering a hurried thanks, she shuffled into the room.

Medicine.

She crinkled her nose at the scent, and timidly sat when the adult motioned at a chair.

"So? You came here for a reason, yes?"

That's when she remembered that Mistress Yao practiced alkahestry and she understood why she was here so late in the evening. The kid must've hurt herself, and the mistress must've healed the wound. Alkahestry was a valuable skill. Lien made a note to ask the mistress if she could teach her.

"W-well," Lien's throat went dry suddenly, a foreboding feeling in her gut, before she repeated the words she'd said to Ling:

"It's about my mother…"


	4. Interlude

**So, 6 months it's been- and merry christmas/happy hanukkah/happy _ to everyone out there. I'm actually so grateful to all those who reviewed aha, honestly I took a gander at old stories and realised I still had heaps written for this story but not yet published. We'll see how things go, hey? :) **

**Thank you for waiting everyone, hope you enjoy this interlude! [the fic will be longer than expected :')]**

* * *

Interlude (14)

"Feng…"

"Hm?" Jin hummed distractedly, searching for her name among all the others on the roster, "What of him?"

"It-" Lien ran a hand through her hair, mouth forming a straight line. "It's a pretty name. Feng, I mean."

"Lien."

Jin's voice went ominous, though her eyes remained on the sheet of paper determinedly.

"Ah, you have kitchen duty Jin," the younger teen pointed out.

"Lien, I know you're the one training and all but if you get the hots for Feng I might have to pull some moves on you."

Lien blinked. The ponytailed girl squinted and turned to look at Lien without a second's pause, "In fact, is that why you've been getting bags underneath your eyes?"

The retainer paled. She thought they were fading.

"Oh, no…" Jin's eyes widened, "don't tell me, you've been getting-"

Silence.

"Jin?" Lien asked, a hint of distress hanging loosely onto her words. "Have I been getting… what?"

"Was it your first…?" Jin whispered, looking uncomfortable and fascinated at the same time.

Jin's ears were met with silence, save for the flittering chatter from the nameless servants around them.

The fleeting glance to the roster was her response and Jin cleared her throat, "Tell me, Lien, on a scale of one to ten, how _pleasurable_ was your sleep last night?"

Lien stilled, all past remnants of discomfort gone. Confusion reigned in its place.

"…pleasurable?" she echoed, dark brows knitting together to form a look of incomprehension.

The nineteen-year-old held Lien's gaze.

"Wait." In an abrupt turn of events, she backtracked. "Are we on the same page?"

Lien frowned, "Just what are you talking about Jin?"

"You don't have any sort of… adoration... for Feng?"

"What?" the younger girl grunted, returning to memorizing her duties (which were cut short now, due to her position as 'retainer'). "No. Why?"

"Well you mentioned him!" the elder exclaimed, bewildered.

"I mentioned his _name_," Lien argued, shaking her head. Rolling her eyes, she turned back to the roster deciding to ignore Jin regardless of her outbursts.

**Lien –  
o - kitchen duty from 1000 to 1200.  
o - FREE  
o - FREE**

**Jin –  
o - FREE  
o - cleaning duty from 1300 to 1600.  
o - kitchen duty from 1700 to 2200.**

"Hm, it's too bad my free shifts are used for training- Jin… what is it now?"

The process of which Jin tied her hair probably ran a little hurried than usual today. At either sides of her face were faint strands of hair, a prominent lock on the left of her face curving in to meet the soft shadow trailing underneath her cheekbone and the rest falling well past her square jaw.

"Why did you look weird when I asked, ahem, what you've been 'getting' at night?"

Lien couldn't help but give her credit: Jin was more observant than she let on.

"Are you having nightmares?"

Lien shifted uncomfortably. "I should probably go prepare for kitchen duty-"

"Lien," Jin protested, "it's barely time for your shift."

And in a more silvery voice, she added, "Would you… want to tell me what they're about while we eat?"

Lien sighed.

Jin gave her an encouraging smile, before taking her hand and leading her to a table where breakfast had already been set out.

"So," the sister-like servant said, "what's been happening lately?"

Hands sliding over the chopsticks set neatly on the wooden table, Lien ran her eyes over the meal: rice and a small serving of fermented beans, plus a little bowl of soup.

"I already told you about my talk with the Mistress…" Lien poked at the rice with one chopstick.

"You told me you talked to her, not what you talked about," Jin told her expectantly, resisting the urge to just watch Lien as she went on. As an alternative, she kept her eyes on her food.

"…she told me about my mother. Her first name. How I… ended up here. She didn't tell me why though, because it was getting late. She said-"

Unable to give the girl a bit of privacy, Jin looked up.

"She said, if it were possible one day, she'd take me to my clan grounds..."

Jin smiled at the sight she saw.

"Can you imagine that?" It came out more of a whisper than Lien had intended and she caught herself; a faint blush overcoming her beige complexion.

"Say, Lien…"

The honeyed lilt in Jin's voice made her tilt her head.

"Would you mind swapping kitchen duties with me?"

.:.

"Oi, Feng!"

Feng turned to the side, sending a disparaging glance towards the voice. And maybe he stood a little straighter, squared his shoulders to enforce his presence. Jin scoffed. She'd noticed.

"Don't look at me like that, I'm technically saving your butt."

As the nineteen-year-old drew closer, her eyes shifted from one end of the hallway to the other, then to the open window to their left. A warm brush of air slithered into the building then, and she took a moment to analyse the boundaries of the garden outside. No one seemed to be in hearing radius. Good.

With a lift of his chin, Feng watched as she finally stopped in front of him with a light spring to her step that made him a tad worried. "What do you want?"

"Listen pretty boy," she grinned at the tone he greeted her with, "don't touch my darling sister on kitchen duty tonight, y'hear?"

"She's not your sister."

"She might as well be."

Feng levelled his gaze on hers.

"Be careful of what you say. Dangerous people can often do dangerous things when they hear misleading information."

His statement rang in the air and a smirk twisted Jin's mouth.

"Well, I've always liked dangerous men," she all but purred, eyes shaded by her lashes. Feng looked away and Jin laughed: there was no malicious intent in the air at all. If there were, the Yao guards would've sensed it and come running.

They stand for a while, before Feng shifts towards her slightly.

"Monitoring her is my task for now. I will not harm her."

"Right, and tell me how many people you've killed?"

Feng inspected Jin with a level head. "Your bravado will get you killed someday."

It came way too easily, her comeback: "Not by you."

She waited patiently, unabashed at Feng's momentary silence simply because she knew it'd be momentary.

His voice quietened, though he was already a soft-spoken person.

"Her father will hear of her new position. The Li clan will not so easily give up their desire for the Emperor's throne, the line runs far back but it was in power once and since then the Li clan has become increasingly greedy. I may be Huo Li's bodyguard because of the Song clan who hired me but I am a neutral party. I will not be swayed by promises or words. Honourable, _good_ people don't have jobs like mine."

Jin sighed, "Yes, money seems to be the new seduction method these days, huh?"

A slight smile appeared on Feng's face.

"A shame that you're an outcast, Jiang Li Song. We would've gotten along well."

Jin shrugged, ignoring the alarming use of her birth name and status.

"Well, I don't have much to worry about. The main branch of the Yao family seems to favour Lien."

Her voice didn't waver as her next words escaped her lips, "You're going to have trouble the day you ever think about turning on the Song clan… and the _Yao _clan, for that matter."

She smiled, the information was more than she needed and her eyes permitted Feng a non-verbal thank you, "So be careful, it'd be bad for my heart seeing you hurt."

And then she left.

.:.

How many times had Lien been on kitchen duty at night?

Not many times and she didn't know why Jin wanted to give up a shift with her beloved Feng of all people.

She sneaked a glance at the boy. Having never really noticed him before Jin took an interest in him (a rather sudden one), she was reminded of Jin's obsession with his eyelashes – long and feminine indeed – and his hairstyle was actually different than what she expected. Not long, like Ling's, but cut short and in messy waves that just barely brushed the tops of his shoulders.

He was tall, and stood with an almost regal stature.

"Is it not rude to stare?"

And his voice was pleasant, matching his soft features.

Lien cracked a smile, "Sorry, your eyelashes are distracting."

That's not what she meant.

"I-I mean, Jin's talked about them once and well- your name is nice?"

She shouldn't be allowed to speak without permission. It'd get her in trouble someday.

"I… yeah. I'll just… go wash the dishes… sorry… Feng."

Breathing deeply as she passed him (he was baking a new batch of bread in the actual kitchen area so she'd have no trouble avoiding him), she exhaled as quietly as she could as she stopped at the washing station.

"Ah, I'm so glad someone's still in the kitchen, listen- Lien?"

"Ling?"

…what was he doing here so late?

"You're on kitchen duty?" The prince peered around her, as if he were searching for another person.

She gave him a look. "Are you expecting someone?"

His mouth parted. "Is the chef in?"

He received a raised-brow look and grinned sheepishly.

"He's out… did you want something to eat?"

Ling beamed.

.:.

"So are you running again?" The teasing remark went undisguised.

"Nope," he smiled, "are you glad?"

Despite herself, Lien returned the action, "Why would I be?"

They settled into a satisfied silence (she had no idea if Feng knew she was delaying washing the dishes but she had all night, and this was the prince so-). Bun after bun was devoured and she was thoroughly amused at how much the lean prince could stomach.

And that was when she noticed.

"Ling…"

"Mm?"

"…there's… blood on your finger."

"Oh?" Ling lifted his hand up and the blood, as Lien had identified, was revealed to be seeping from a small cut on his pinky.

"…did you get cut by something?" Possibly by paper? It was too thin to be anything else.

"Ah, it must've been that assassination attempt earlier. Nothing major. "

Aaand she was wrong. He said it in such an easy-going tone if she weren't listening she might've dismissed it as something else.

Ling let out a laugh and she eyed him worriedly.

"Sorry, sorry," he snickered, "I just wanted to show off."

Why did he always have to say things she didn't understand?

"It did happen though," he said, shrugging, "but I'm used to it. It'll come with being an emperor."

Lien pursed her lips. "Is Lan Fan with you? You shouldn't be wandering alone…"

"Are you worried for me~?"

"Yes."

He didn't expect such a straightforward answer.

So he stared at her and she mused, "Well, I'm here for you now so I guess it's okay. I am one of your… retainers, was it? I'm one of your retainers after all, even if I can't fight as well as you and Lan Fan I can help you in some way."

Her eyes brightened and she leaned forward – Lan Fan beat her in a spar the other day and she felt like proving herself in some way – "I can heal that if you want."

Though previously distracted by something or other (she wasn't sure), his face morphed into one of childlike fascination. "You're an alkahestrist?"

Her lips curved into a shy smile. "Your mother is teaching me."

A hint of laughter danced across his features. "I see."

"But I'm not that good at it. I can heal your cut though… but I'd need to get outside or somewhere close to nature since I'm not experienced at tapping into _qi._ Oh, and I can't do it without drawing those purification circles so uhm, I hope you don't mind that and-"

"Let's go outside then."

Lien probably should've thought this through first.

"O-oh, Feng might-"

"Feng?" Ling tilted his head and his gaze wandered behind her for a second before a smirk crossed his lips.

"He won't mind. Let's go."

At that moment, the 'listen to me, I am your superior' aura flared from the prince. His eyes remained deceptively closed. So she went silent and obeyed.

They'd reached the gardens in a handful of minutes, the fresh scent of watered grass and flowers swimming in the night air and the thoughts of being 'too friendly' with her master were thrown from her head. She went unaware of the consequences: she was something between a servant and a soldier – the forbidden boundaries set for such a relationship weren't quite as drilled into her as they were with Lan Fan, who was the granddaughter of the exceptionally skilled and _strict_ Fu.

Lien crouched down near a bench when they arrived at a grassy clearing, the moon's rays not providing as much light as it should compared to the other side of the estate. But the stars were enough, and the dirt patch beside Lien's feet made for a good drawing pad.

Ling's shadow obscured her vision, and although she was quietly thankful when he kneeled down, she blinked.

"Shouldn't you sit on the bench Ling?" she threw a glance at the tips of his pant leggings, which were brushing the dirt.

The teen waved a dismissive hand, "I want to see how you do it."

Shrugging (as long as the prince was fine with it, she was too), Lien grabbed a nearby stick and drew a simple circle. In 5 strokes, the traditional star was raggedly in place and Ling stretched his scratched hand in front of her. Understanding the gesture, Lien took his hand with a demure touch to her actions. She made sure his hand didn't brush the ground and the dirt didn't taint his skin, taking time to _breathe_ and wondering why it suddenly became difficult. Or, maybe, it was the result of her noticing that she liked the feel of his fingers against hers.

Finally, her hands rested upon the edges of the circle. All the tips of her fingers lay inside of the diagram and she focused on that buzzing current beneath their feet: a blue light shone and twinkled away, wisps of blue dispersing into the air.

It was a bad idea to look at Ling as he examined his healed finger – she found that although Feng's eyelashes were pretty, Ling's eyelashes were prettier. The awe that struck her then was one she could associate with the beauty of sunsets and the star spangled sky above their heads.

She was unaware her hands had curled into fists until Ling settled his gaze on her, an earnest face that surprised her.

"Hey, Lien, I could help you with your training."

Lien's eyes widened. The offer was sudden but common sense ruled over, and hastily, she shook her head. "I don't think that's allowed-"

"Consider it a thank you."

"Young Master," she found herself saying, "Master Fu and Lan Fan wouldn't agree with you joining in on our training sessions, much less if we were to spar…"

"Of course they wouldn't," Ling agreed, tilting his head (and that in itself made a warning bell go off in her mind), "but who said it'd be during your training sessions?"


End file.
